


The Road Goes Ever On and On

by Sairamire



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst but not really an angst, Doesn't even belong anywhere actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 16:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1905939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sairamire/pseuds/Sairamire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Valinor, Bilbo Baggins, now an old hobbit, writes the last song of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road Goes Ever On and On

The old hobbit was sitting on an armchair, with his pen and a blank piece of white paper on his lab. Although covered under the marks that the time has mercilessly left on him, his face still held something that showed his ruthlessness in the days gone by, and great strength that was deep inside him.

He was looking into a green country that lied wildly before his eyes. The quiet sound of the humble wind was music to his ears. Picking up his pen, he mumbled some words quietly in his mouth, dipped the tip in the ink, and started writing. This was the last song that he was going to write. He was old, and he felt older. And he was feeling the presence of death coming nearer through his weakening limps and slowing breaths.

He stopped writing for a brief moment when he heard soft footsteps of his dearest nephew.

“Bilbo,” said Frodo, “don’t you need to stay warmer?”

“Ah, Frodo, my lad, this is the blessed realm of Valinor. It is hardly even chilly in this place. I think I’m good.”

With that, Frodo placed down the blanket that he carried with him, and walked closer to Bilbo.

“What are you writing?”

“A song.”

“About what?”

“You’ll know when it’s time. Keep yourself out of others' business till then, young lad!”

Frodo quietly sat next to his uncle with a gentle laughter, and for a long time watched the old hobbit until he put down his pen with a satisfying smile.

“Frodo.”

He couldn't help himself but to feel terrified when he heard Bilbo’s weak voice calling his name. Never since they set their feet in the warmth of Valinor Bilbo’s voice lost its strength. Then he rushed closer to the old Baggins and wrapped his arms around him.

“It seems like I have written the last song of my life.” Said the old hobbit, to which Frodo could not respond to. It was as if a heavy sack was down his throat. He held the hands of the hobbit whom he loved as his father for long years.

“Do not be sad for my death, my dear lad Frodo,” said Bilbo as he softly placed his hand over Frodo’s, “my nephew, an old friend, and my son. I lived a long life. Probably longer than all of the hobbits in the history, even than that of old Bandobras Took! Perhaps it was even too long. But it was a good life I lived, probably more than I deserved.” He laughed as if doing so would lift off the heavy air that felt to be surrounding them.

“But, Frodo, there comes time when you need rest. Not this kind of rest, which is truly grateful in its own way, but the kind of rest where I am no longer bound by living. I need rest from everything, every sense, and every elements of being alive. And now just happens to be the time I’ll be granted one. Be glad, Frodo, for I am finally being put to rest-- for now I will finally, if Eru will grant me the blessing to do so, see my old friends who had left before me. But if you’d grieve, grieve for parting. For one, I am sad, and I am sad to leave you.”

Bilbo paused, as he was running out of breath, and closed his eyes for a long while. When he opened them again, they were staring at somewhere far, far away beyond the known borders. Strangely, he looked young. He seemed like the young, curious hobbit who left his home looking for new world, looking for adventure.

“Ah, Frodo, I am yet ready for this journey.”

With that, he slipped away and closed his eyes, and Frodo held his hand even tighter, not being able to stop his tears yet smiling.

“Farewell, Bilbo.” Said Frodo, as he kissed the departed softly on his forehead.

“May your memories never fade.”


End file.
